What the Troll Said

Chapter 14

WHAT THE TROLL SAID

CHAPTER 14

The Troll continued to laugh away, soaking up the mirth of his victory. Plopping his weight down on the edge of the fountain, he paused to catch his breath.

Morgan remained where she was.

The stonework upon which the Troll was sitting resembled a fountain indeed. It was a circular pool, with a low wall around it, about three feet high. It was bone dry now, of course, with errant leaves here and there, but it must have brimmed with water a long time ago. The diameter of the pool was about seventy feet across. In the middle of the structure, a small pile of stones lay, like so much rubbish, or like refuse. One stone sat on top of another in no particular pattern. The entire column reached a height of about five feet.

The Troll stopped laughing. He got up. Dragging Abby's body along, he strode up to the middle of the fountain. He let her go. She wilted, flopping down and off to one side. He turned to the column. He got to work.

From within his clothes, he removed the first vial and poured it out onto the top stone.

The Blood of the Rich.

He murmured an incantation.

Thunder rolled.

Blue light erupted from above. It blasted down onto the fountain and the stones in the middle in particular. A brilliance of blue and white from the sky and it stabbed straight down like a spotlight. It lit up the stones. And the Troll too. He reached into his clothes.

The second flask.

The Blood of the Noble.

The Troll poured this one out as well.

A second incantation.

The ground began to shake. Rumbling all around. Animals scurried off. Trees fell. Boulders shifted nearby and tumbled onto the ground. The wind picked up. It swept through the area until all the trees were singing and whistling up a storm. Leaves shot into Morgan's hair. It was in her eyes. She couldn't see. Reaching up, she brushed it away.

The Troll reached down for Abby. He took her by the front of her blouse.

He lifted her.

Her chest came up in his hand. Her head flopped over, and then hung back, exposing her pristine, white neck.

He whipped out a knife. He went to touch it to her throat...

"Stop!"

The Troll paused. He pivoted his head toward the voice.

Morgan.

"Stop!" Morgan faced the Troll from where she was standing, some thirty feet away. She hadn't moved. Her face was stone cold. Her hair whipped about her head like a crazed woman.

"I said stop." She approached. She took two steps and then stopped again.

"Or what?" He sneered at her. "What will you do?"

Morgan hefted a knife of her own. Tilting her head, she laid it on her neck.

On the neck. On the carotid. On the jugular vein.

The Troll laughed. He laughed and he laughed so hard, he had to take a break for a second. He laid Abby down again. In his hand, he still held his knife.

He wiped his mouth. He had laughed so hard, he had drooled a little bit. "So what is that supposed to do? What does that mean? What are you trying to say?" He flicked his chin out at her.